


Chances Are

by futureimperfect



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Angst, F/F, Flashbacks, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futureimperfect/pseuds/futureimperfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She turns at the Public Garden, and thinks about the night they first met.  Not the morning at the coffee shop, like they told Angela and anyone else who might care to ask.  No, it had been dark out.  For that matter, it had been dark inside as well. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chances Are

**Author's Note:**

> Set at the close-ish of S4 with a little twist....  
> Not sure what prompted this, it's been awhile. Let me know what you think, trying to get back to posting from time to time. Thanks for looking!

Once again, she finds herself taking a left on Washington, two blocks down to Mass Ave, then veering onto Commonwealth on the way home.  It’s out of her way, saves her no convenience, but it passes by Jane’s building, but she doesn’t stop.  It’s not really her place anymore to do so without invitation.  Besides, in this part of town it’s not as easy as seeing who else’s car is out front. Parking is a challenge and Jane’s constant complaints would make it seem like the scourge of existence.  

But that’s just how her friend is- all bluster and overcompensation, except when it comes to personal matters.  Then, she’s kind and loyal, and would try to bring down the moon for just about anyone if she thought it could make them whole.  

That’s also why Maura keeps driving.  Jane seems happy, or at least reasonably content, and Maura can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.  

Maura has always been a bit of a loner, anyway.  Or, at least that’s what she would have aptly classified herself as before returning to Boston.  She turns at the Public Garden, and thinks about the night they first met.  Not the morning at the coffee shop, like they told Angela and anyone else who might care to ask.  No, it had been dark out.  For that matter, it had been dark inside as well.

\---------------

_The lights are low in the bar of the restaurant at the end of her street, but not so much as to be indecent.  It’s a nice part of town, though without too much pretense.  Maura spends enough time in places with lists and reputations, and tonight she’s just not in the mood to run into anyone she’d have to put on a good face for._

_She still doesn’t quite know what possessed her to to leave her townhouse that night.  It might have been all the moving boxes, or maybe how her footsteps echoed just a little too loudly off the bare walls.  It’s her dream house, it really is, right down to the small garden out back that had probably served as a stable yard for one of Boston’s wealthy families before the car took over the city’s narrow and winding streets.  That’s what Maura likes about it most, she thinks- it has a rich history built right into the walls and structure, without her needing to add any of her own._

_But that night it was too quiet, Bass having taken to staring petulantly at the door, now that he knows about the yard he’s being denied while the fencing is replaced.  Maura had finally decided there had been enough time spent with a glass of (very nice) merlot and Vivaldi for company._

_She takes a vacant seat, and ignores the few looks that come her way.  She’s fairly used to going out on her own, a skill she learned early, and perfected on her many travels to unknown places.  For all her discomfort with other people, she finds them fascinating, and has gained plenty from her observations._

_It doesn’t take much focus to observe the woman who steps up to the seat next to her a few moments later.  She looks slightly awkward, out of place, and her arrival is punctuated with a long sigh._

_She’s tall, and would be so even without the heels that Maura glances down out of habit to appraise.  They aren’t expensive, and both from the stiff leather and the way the woman winces when they clang on the rail, Maura can tell they’re hardly her footwear of choice.  Maura’s eyes work up quickly from the shoes.  She’s wearing a dark blue dress, cocktail length, but of a style that Maura had removed from her closet a few years prior.  Still, it complements well a body that is all angles and lightly tanned skin, pulled taut over well-formed muscles.  The doctor appreciates the human form in many shapes and sizes, but the woman next to her is quite clearly an exceptional specimen (as far as contemporary western values are concerned)._

_Maura inclines her head slightly when the brunette’s dark eyes look her way. She asks if she’d been waiting for someone, and immediately wants to take the words back as the other woman’s face falls perceptibly._   

_“He left.  Guess we weren’t quite what the other was looking for.”  Her voice is low, masculine almost, and there’s something in the deadpan tone that Maura finds her own mood reacting to.  The woman gives a rueful little smile that just touches the corner of her mouth, and tips the drink that’s been placed in front of her back before continuing, “Just thought I’d give it another try.”_

_Maura has the good sense not to ask her to explain further, the way her fingers are worrying the edge of her glass, tells her all she needs to know._

\--------------------

Maura rolls the Mercedes to a stop in the driveway, just behind the Prius that’s currently collecting dust in the garage.  It’s not logical or practical, but a few months back Maura felt the need to fall into old habits.  Besides, there’s a little light Jane gets in her eyes when Maura hands her the keys.  Maura always admonishes her for her driving habits, but it’s really only in jest- she’s addicted to seeing the other woman like that.

Addictions you indulge, she reminds herself, trend toward amplification.  

But they’ve had fewer of those times lately.  After years now of trying to fit in with ‘the crew’ to the best of her meager abilities, she can feel her old walls slamming back up.  There are some lines that aren’t meant to be breached.

\---------------------

_The ride up to the hotel’s tenth floor is quiet.  Maura had suggested the location, assuming neither of them wanted to make this encounter too personal.  The woman standing next to her is tense, her breath only slow by what she can tell is conscious force of will.  She moves closer, tracing small patterns on the brunette’s bare forearm.  It’s not a predatory act, exactly, but that small bit of connection keeps her grounded, even as her mind leaps ahead to the next inevitable moment.  That’s all life really is, a string of moments, and Maura’s more than ready for this one._

_The doors glide open, and she walks down the hall, heels muffled by the padded carpet under foot.  She’s intimately aware of the taller woman following a pace behind, and anticipation trails down her spine, culminating in a pleasant rush low in her abdomen.  This isn’t her normal means of finding the physical connections she’s none too proud to admit she craves, but despite her professional demeanor in other aspects of her life, she’s also no stranger to the occasional impulsive encounter._

_By the time the keycard slips out of the door, she’s being pressed inside the room, and she lets out a quiet sound of surprise and not a little desire before her back meets with the wall of the short hallway inside.  There are desperate, dark kisses being trailed down her neck, and she tangles and twists her fingers roughly through thick ebony curls, luxuriating in the way the pain she imparts is given back to her by quick teeth and strong hands._

_Her world spins for a moment as she’s lifted easily and carried the few steps across the room, to be deposited on the center of the bed.  The figure now towering over her hesitates for just an instant, and Maura reaches out a hand to pull her in._

\---------------------

The light is on over the courtyard door.  She’s still not fully used to her home being so alive, so lived in as it is now.  Angela is in many ways the mother she wished either of hers had taken the time to be.  The whole lot of them, really, have taken up residence in her life, her house just being the physical manifestation.  

It adds one more layer to the puzzle, one more thing she considers with each of the scenarios she plays out in her mind.  There’s a pang of guilt there when she considers needing a few start, and she flinches a little.  In the rest of her personal history, she hasn’t been one to settle for the next best thing.  Not in her career, and not in love.

She pulls her keys out of her purse and lets herself in.  

\---------------------

_Maura wakes to the sound of the hotel room door clicking shut.  She’s half-awake, half dressed, and only half covered by the oversized duvet that’s spilled over onto the floor at some point in the prior hours.  Her companion from the night is gone, leaving behind a cooling spot on the bed next to her, and a pleasant weariness in her limbs.   Maura takes a deep breath, and gathers the sheets, pulling them up with her as she reclines back on the pillows that managed to avoid falling to the floor.  She lets it go, and brushes the stray hair out of her eyes._

_She pauses a few beats, then glances to the bedside table.  She’s not really expecting to find a note left behind, but yet feels her chest tighten ever so slightly when she finds she’s right._

________________________

The click of her heels come to an abrupt stop at the threshold of the living room.  The television is turned off, and it’s not Angela waiting for her, but Jane.  Maura tilts her head in a silent question.  It’s not a shocking revelation- Jane’s had her key for years now, but something in her expression says tonight’s visit carries more weight.

“I thought you were home, spending the evening with…”

Her words are cut off by a shake of Jane’s head.  Maura searches her friend’s face for that familiar look of loss, but this time she doesn’t see it.  Something has changed.  Maura’s heart leaps just a little, her subconscious making connections she has tried time and again to suppress.  

“It’s over.”  Jane rises up off the couch, “for real this time.”

Maura’s eyes slide down the other woman’s body as she processes the statement- from her striking features, down to the newly perceptible swell of her stomach.  Jane’s been fidgeting with her clothes for weeks, uncomfortable in her own skin as her body grows more feminine with the passing time, her angles giving over to soft curves.  Maura always wants to tell her she’s beautiful like this, but it hasn’t been her place.

“Oh, Jane, I’m so sorry.”  And she is, despite her own selfish hopes.  

“Don’t be.”  There’s something in the slight incline of her head, a lightness playing around her features, that has Maura off balance.  Since she walked into Maura’s life those years ago, Jane has always been the chaotic element in her life.  

“I told him.”  Jane takes a breath, steeling herself for the leap.  “I told him there was someone else.”

Maura’s instinct is to ask the obvious query, but all of her synapses tell her she already knows the answer.  They both have since that first night.  

Then she’s moving closer, consequences be damned, and Jane’s not backing away, not closing herself off.  Her arms are open, and Maura folds into them, a half-sob of relief escaping her lips.  They stand like that for a long time, Maura’s face pressed against Jane’s neck, just breathing together, taking in the silence.  


End file.
